RISE OF THE SCORNFUL CRYPTO LORD

8. I WON'T GET MOCKED AGAIN

Liam's POV

I wasn’t happy with what Claire said. She made my heart ache like I was holding in a scream, but I didn’t want to lose it. Not in front of her.

So I just walked out. Left her standing there and hit the streets, heading back to the hotel. The city was loud with horns blaring and people shoving past, but it didn’t drown out the mess in my head. I kept my hands stuffed in my pockets, eyes on the pavement, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Then, boom. I slammed right into someone. “Watch it, man!” I snapped, looking up.

When I looked up my stomach dropped.

Michael freaking Tanner! Of all people? Today is a very bad day for me.

Back in high school, this guy was my personal nightmare. Tall, smug, with that stupid grin like he owned the world. He’d shove me into lockers, trip me in the halls, and laugh with his little posse while I picked my books off the floor. Once, he accidentally dumped his lunch tray on me in the cafeteria and got the whole room laughing. “Oops, clumsy Liam. Daddy go round.” he’d said, winking at his buddies. Every day was a new way to make me feel small.

And I earned the name, “Daddy go round.”

“Liam? Liam Conrad?” Michael said now, his voice dripping with fake surprise. His eyes scanned me, head to toe, like he was sizing up a stray dog. “Didn’t expect to see you around here.”

“Yeah, well, here I am,” I said, keeping my voice flat. No way was I giving him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

He smirked, crossing his arms. “Hey, we’re having a little get-together in two days. Old high school crew. Fancy place, you know the new five-star restaurant? You know, the kind of spot where people with actual money eat.” His tone was sharp, like he was daring me to admit I couldn’t afford it. “You should come. If you can swing it.”

I forced a smile. “I’ll be there.”

Michael’s eyebrows shot up, but that smug grin stayed plastered on his face. “Really? Alright, then.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, holding it out like he was doing me a favor. “Call me if you actually show. Don’t want you getting lost at the door.” Another jab, like I was too broke to even find the place.

I took the card, my fingers itching to crumple it. “Sure thing, Michael.”

He gave me one last look, like he was already laughing at me in his head, then walked off. I stood there for a second, staring at the card. Michael Tanner, Financial Consultant. What a joke. The guy was still a bully, just in a better suit.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Elijah. “Yo, where you at?”

“Home,” Elijah said, sounding distracted. “Why?”

“Send me your address. I’m coming over.”

“What? Why?” Elijah’s voice had that suspicious edge, like he knew I was up to something.

“Just send it, man. I’ll explain when I get there.”

He grumbled but gave in after I pushed him a bit. A few seconds later, my phone buzzed with his text. I hailed an Uber, gave the driver the address, and leaned back, staring out the window. The city blurred past, but all I could think about was Michael’s smug face. I wasn’t that kid in high school anymore. No way was I letting him walk all over me again.

At Elijah’s place, I took the elevator up and rang the doorbell. He opened the door, looking me up and down. “You look pissed. What’s up?”

I stepped inside and handed him Michael’s card. “Got a get-together in two days. High school reunion thing. I need you to call the restaurant a few hours before and book the whole place for the evening.”

“The new one?”

“Yeah, exactly, where the wealthy people go.”

Elijah’s eyes lit up, and a slow grin spread across his face. He knew exactly what I was planning. “You’re going big, huh?”

“Damn right,” I said. “Make it happen.”

He nodded, still grinning. “Consider it done.”

***

Two days later, everything was set. Elijah called to confirm the restaurant was booked, my tuxedo was delivered, and a sleek black car with a driver was waiting outside by 5 p.m.

I slipped into the blue tux. Expensive, tailored, and the kind of thing that screams money. It fit like a glove, and I caught myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the guy staring back. I looked sharp and I loved it. Like I belonged somewhere better than Michael’s cheap shots.

I headed outside, and the driver opened the car door for me. I was about to slide in when I heard, “Liam!”

I turned. My dad was standing there, his work bag slung over his shoulder, looking at me like I’d just stepped off a spaceship. “You get paid already? What’s with the suit and the car?”

I glared into his eyes. I hadn’t told him about any of this and I don't think I will. “Uh, no,” I said, scratching the back of my neck. “Claire wanted to celebrate my new job. She got me the suit and rented the car.”

Dad laughed, loud and hearty, and clapped me on the back. “That’s my boy. Claire’s got good taste.” But then his face changed. He hardened his face, like he’d seen a ghost.

I followed his gaze and saw a man approaching. 

Charles.

The ruthless businessman. I’d heard the stories from Claire. The guy was a shark, chewing up anyone in his way.

Dad moved fast, grabbing his bag and heading toward Charles. I stood there, confused, as Charles glanced at me. “Who’s that?” he asked my dad, nodding in my direction.

Dad didn’t even look back. “Just the son of a late friend,” he lied.

He fucking lied!

My eyes widened. My heart slammed against my ribs, like someone had punched me in the chest. 

Late friend?

I’m his son. His actual son.

Why the hell would he say that?

I gulped down empty air and for a second, I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just the words, it was the way he said it, like I was nothing.

Like I didn’t matter. I wanted to yell, to demand answers, but my phone buzzed.

It was Elijah.

I picked up, still reeling. “Yeah?”

“You’re good to go,” Elijah said. “Entry code is Daddy Go Round like you wanted.”

I muttered a thanks and hung up, shoving the hurt down. I’d deal with my dad later. Right now, I had a point to prove.

.

.

.

When I pulled up to the restaurant, heads turned. The car was a beast. It was shiny, sleek, the kind of thing you don’t ignore. People were staring, whispering, trying to figure out who was inside.

I saw Michael near the entrance, ranting at the security guard.

“I told you, this is a private reservation! You can’t just let anyone book the whole damn place!”

The guard didn’t flinch, and no one else was listening. They were all watching the car. Waiting.

I took a deep breath and stepped out. I moved like I owned the world — slow, deliberate, shoulders back, chin up. The kind of walk that says, “Yeah, I’m here, and you’re gonna remember it.”

My shoes clicked against the pavement, the tux catching the light just right. I didn’t rush. I strolled toward the entrance, letting the crowd’s murmurs wash over me.

“Isn’t that Daddy Go Round?” someone whispered. I ignored it, keeping my eyes forward.

Michael spotted me and froze, his mouth half-open. Then he marched over, his face twisting into that same smug grin. “Liam? You actually showed up? What, you win the lottery or something?”

I didn’t break stride. “Something like that.” I turned to the crowd, raising my voice. “Everyone’s welcome inside. Enjoy the night. Except…” I pointed at Michael and three of his buddies. The guys who’d laughed right along with him in high school while I ate dirt. “You four. You want in? Kneel and say, ‘I’m Daddy Go Round.’”

The crowd went silent. Michael’s face turned red. “You’re joking, right?”

I crossed my arms. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

People started murmuring again, some laughing under their breath. Michael’s buddies shifted, looking at each other like they didn’t know what to do. I waited, calm as hell, letting the pressure build.

Michael scoffed. “I’m not doing that. You’re nobody, Liam.”

I shrugged. “Cool. Everyone else, let’s go.” I waved the crowd toward the entrance, and they started moving, buzzing with excitement. Michael and his crew stood there, fuming, as the doors opened.

As I was about to enter, then I heard it. “I’m Daddy Go Round.” I turned back. Michael and his buddies were on their knees, muttering the words, faces burning with embarrassment.

I smirked, waited for a few seconds, and said. “Too late. You’re still not coming in.”